Tea & a Tango for Two
by Brandywine00
Summary: Inara's tired of being ignored by Mal, and seeks what she needs from the last person who expects it! Prequel to Moonlight & Serenades.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

He knew the moment he became prey.

Every nerve in the big man's body blared alarm. Muscles already primed from his workout, he eased his large frame off the bench. His keen blue eyes roamed the cargo bay.

Jayne Cobb was deadly familiar with this raising of hairs on back of his neck, all warning and urgent. He was a hunter by nature, but this weren't the first time he'd been the one hunted. By wild wolves in the hills back home when he was looking for game. By hired guns like himself, looking to settle a score or remove him as a threat to their own profit.

Nobody here but him. Rest of the crew had gone into town, if you could call the go se mudhole settlement that. Cap'n said they was a religious sect trying to "get away from all the sinning of the civilized 'verse", so weren't no use looking for trim.

Pay was good, even if they were a bit fussy about landing Serenity nearby. Mal'd agreed to put down a day's ride away, and Jayne volunteered to stand watch, looking forward to having the boat to himself.

Well, Inara was here, but she was holed up in her fancy shuttle as usual. Jayne snuck around a stack of crates in the corner. Somebody was here, all right, watching him. He hoped Inara'd locked her shuttle door, just in case somebody got the drop on him. Wouldn't want harm to come of her if he weren't able to bring down an intruder.

His gaze flickered up toward her quarters at the thought. Unexpected, a flare of excitement jolted through him at the source of the warning, an intense dark stare fixed on him from above.

Weren't the first time he'd been in the crosshairs of hungry eyes.

He just never dreamed it would be her.

***

She knew the instant he became aware of her presence.

She sensed the subtle, sudden stillness in him. Bay lights glinted off his dark hair, his head turning to scan for danger. Shock and wariness registered in his crystal blue eyes as they settled on her.

He stalked toward the stairs, his stealthy grace always surprising to her, so unexpected in a man of his stature.

Like a tiger, she mused. She'd seen one in the private exhibit of a client back on Sihnon. Padding around his cage with a comfortable ease, splayed out in the sun, appearing to doze, yet ready to pounce in a heartbeat. Kept in check by those who valued but feared him.

This cage was more than the metal hull of Serenity. It was the myriad of social barriers between them. The rough gun-hand paused at the base of the stairway, surveying the polished, respectable, well-bred lady staring down at him from the catwalk. A woman of her social standing wasn't supposed to want a man like him.

Forbidden. Taboo.

Undeniably irresistible.

Inara had come out to the Black searching for an essence tangibly absent from her precise, controlled world. Something real and passionate and fiery and untamed that no 'respectable' client had ever ignited in her.

The woman in her craved more than the formal ceremony of her profession. She wasn't ready to give up her independence to seek a forever mate just yet. And she couldn't share herself with a man who didn't at least care for her a little.

Yet she yearned for a man who could ignite the passion waiting just beneath her composure. Her body flushed at the thought of this large, dangerous man rushing those barriers, tearing through the carefully crafted walls of 'can't have' and 'don't touch' and 'not for you.'

Unbidden thoughts of Mal popped into her mind. Barriers were a thing Mal was unwilling to breach. Ever shutting his heart and his body away from her reach. Going willingly to Nandi with his need, despite his puritanical notions about sex and embarrassment. Not coming to her. A woman could only take so much sting of rejection.

But this man…

This mountain of a man with his dry, crude wit and rough manners, was ruled by his passions.

Jayne worked hard and played hard. A fire burned in his belly, and he reveled in it. The very idea of apologizing for pleasure was a concept foreign to him. He was what she needed, fueling her excitement beyond her wildest imagining.

The past few months had required all her training to keep her composure until an opportunity presented itself. None could know of the burgeoning flame licking at her core when he brushed past her in the hallway or gave her a habitual sexy leer over dinner.

The hard-ass mercenary was hot-headed and hot-blooded. Only the long days spent confined together on Serenity had revealed the secret he tried desperately to guard. Beyond that very real toughness was a man who loved as hard as he lived.

Jayne was action, not words. Inara never let on that she saw the caring man behind the fiery nature. She wanted both, and had been willing to wait for this moment to get them. When Mal announced their destination, she knew she'd have no reason to seek clients on this puritanical settlement. But that also meant the big mercenary wouldn't be searching for a night's attentions in town, either.

He had paused at the foot of the stairs, a massive hand gripping the rail. He was visibly aroused, yet wariness tempered his lust, holding him back. She'd have to pull a page from his book.

Leaning slightly over the railing, she gave him an enticing view of her cleavage. He sucked in his breath, belly drawn taut, pupils widening.

"Jayne," she let his name glide across her tongue. "Will you come to me, please."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

Jayne felt his body snap tight, like a bowstring pulled ready to fire. She was staring down at him, shiny brown eyes burning with all kinds of invite.

"_Jayne, will you come to me…please_," she'd asked so pretty he thought he'd die. Never dreamed he'd hear those words drippin' like honey from her sweet mouth.

'_Please_,' she'd said. Asking him nice when she probably knew she didn't have to. Must want something big, he thought. Deep in his gut, need flared, thrummed between his legs.

"Got somethin' big I'd like to give 'er," he thought. "Won't even hafta say please." Blood hammered through him as she trailed a red-tipped nail softly down her graceful neck, grazing the edge of her fancy dressing gown. The red silk molded itself around her womanly curves. Long flowing sleeves were slit on top down to the cuff, teasing him with a hint of bare golden skin from shoulders to wrists.

Jayne struggled to breathe. Struggled not to breathe hard. Tried to wrap his brain around what this beautiful, educated woman was after. Couldn't really be what he was reading into that hot-as-hell look.

"Gorramit," he muttered, locking onto her gaze. "This ain't happenin', Cobb. Gotta be outta your ruttin' mind thinkin' she wants you."

What in nine hells was she playing at?

Inara'd been on the ship plenty long enough to make a move on him had she wanted. She weren't interested in no rim-born gun-slinger.

He didn't take it personal. Only seen one of her 'clients', that sexy lady counselor she'd entertained on the ship. Didn't have to see the rest to know most men she laid with were all soft and cultured and citified and - well, sure as hell not him. Women like Inara saw him as nothing more than a hired thug. Noses in the air, and all.

She sure as hell wasn't looking down on him like that now. Jayne was no stranger to women's 'want to' looks, and damn if that weren't the most powerful one ever been leveled at him.

But this was Inara. Never once had she sent him a lusty looks. But begorramed, if he wasn't seeing that 'come sex me' look with his own two eyes. Hazy red fog crept toward the edges of his brain.

She stood there eyeing him up and down, wetting her plump lips with the pink tip of her tongue, lips slightly parted like the collar of her red gown. The silky red gown collar she now nudged aside, showing a hint of the swell of her firm, dusky cleavage. All made him think of another pair of rosy lips he'd love to see parted with his own tongue.

The part of Jayne's mind still functioning told him it must be a mistake.

A man in his line of work don't live long as he had by not looking before jumping. Caution and sheer will held him back from charging up the stairs three at a time. Warned him not to come within a hairsbreadth of that sweet-smelling, silk-wrapped lady. Not to drop to his knees, use his hands, his mouth, his whole gorram body to worship her. He'd done it often enough in his mind, alone in his bunk, when his manhood was full and urgent and couldn't wait till they hit dirt-side.

The thought pushed him over the edge. Maybe he was wrong. Per-maybe-haps she was tinkerin' with him, needing something heavy toted or just thought it'd be fun to see him melt, then traipse away to her next pasty-skinned client. But if he was right…

He eased his large boot up to the next step, never breaking eye contact.

If he was wrong, Mal would kill him. Bullet to the gut. Bare hands around Jayne's neck. Space him out the airlock. Probably kick him in the balls a time or two first just for good measure.

Another step.

If Mal true wanted her, he'd have had her by now, Jayne rationed. Didn't take no crazy-girl mind-reading genius to see the way Inara had wanted Mal. Just needed him to man up, step over that client-rules-whore go se they threw in each other's faces all the time.

Jayne did not get it. How Mal could want Inara bad as he plainly did, but do everything possible to shove her away. Women was supposed to be treated nice, talked sweet to. Even whores in the backwater Rim brothels, and for certain a fine lady like Inara. You didn't talk down to 'em nasty just to hurt their feelings, even if they made you mad.

If Mal wanted her, he wouldna sexed up Nandi, may she rest in peace. Any fool could see Inara'd wanted to give him her body and more.

But if this darlin' woman was really wanting ol' Jayne Cobb for what her look told him she did - hellfire if he'd sit on his hands, wishing when he might be having. Life was too short, especially out here in the Black. Malcolm Reynolds was a ruttin' fool. Jayne was not.

Another cautious step. The most beautiful woman he'd ever laid direct eyes on was really standing there, looking for all the world like she wanted to touch him all over. An image of her dainty hands running over his body sent another flare through him.

Move slow, man, his instincts whispered. Give her time to back away. Read her eyes, get closer, but don't make a fool of yourself. If she don't make the move, just go on like you was headed to the kitchen. Not like you was coming up here to take her in your arms, carry her off to that fancified shuttle of hers and lay her down good an' proper.

If he was wrong, everyone on the ship would know. They'd think he was more of a jackass than they already did, a hun dan pushing himself on a high-class lady like Inara.

They'd cast him out.

He'd have to leave Serenity.

This was the best gig he'd ever lucked into. More than that. This crew was his family, even if he didn't let them see it. They might generally get on his nerves most of the time, but there weren't a one of them on this ship he hadn't willingly risked his neck to protect. This tin can was more home to him than he'd had in a long damn time. More home than he expected he'd find again anywhere else.

If he was wrong, he lost everything.

But if he was right…

Sweet heaven, if he was right…

His foot hit the landing of the catwalk.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

"Inara?"

She heard him breathe the question into her name. His careful steps brought him to stand before her. Hands at his sides, he eyed her with suspicion and barely-veiled want.

"You need somethin'?" His low voice rumbled with suppressed desire. He was trying like hell not to let it show, and failing miserably. His body couldn't lie to her. Inara didn't have to be Academy-trained to see the effect she had on him.

She knew he desired her physically. Since Mal had closed himself off from her, she'd noticed Jayne was around more frequently. She'd glimpsed his covert looks at her when he thought no one watched. He made opportunities to quietly be in the same room, an easy if unspoken camaraderie growing between them. That he wanted her wasn't surprising. But this was more, an echo of the feelings she'd discovered growing inside herself.

Jayne wanted _her_.

Not as a client wanted a Companion; nor like he wanted the whores he hired when Serenity docked. Like a man desires a woman he cares for, longs for but doesn't believe he can ever have.

The realization had rocked her, forcing her to rethink all she thought she knew about the man that was Jayne.

His sexual prowess was nearly legendary. Inara had seen the satisfied glow on women's faces after a night in his bed. And it was most always the whole night.

Yet despite his crude innuendoes and exaggerated leers, this notorious womanizer hadn't once made a serious move on her. She doubted it had anything to do with her declaration of not servicing crew, nor Mal's dictum against ship-board romances.

Shy he was not. Yet here he stood before her, hands at his sides, as if he dared not breathe. Waiting for her to make the first move.

Inara framed his face between her soft hands. She gave him a tender smile at the way her touch seemed to jolt him.

"Yes, Jayne," she whispered, pouring every ounce of encouragement she could muster into the sound of his name. "There's something very special that I need. I think you may be the only one who can help me."

Inarra traced the curve of his sensual mouth with her thumb, still holding his rugged face in her palms. Jayne closed his eyes and turned into her soft, inviting hands. A soft groan escaped him as her palms lightly rubbed the dark hair of his well-trimmed beard.

"Need…" he moaned. "Special… from me?" Inarra pressed the length her supple body against his hard muscled form, the lightest of contacts, but full of promise and electricity.

"Yes, Jayne," she whispered, loving the way he shivered at the sound of his name on her lips. "Something I think neither you nor I have experienced in a very, very long time. I'm not certain I've ever truly experienced it."

She felt his massive chest rising and falling, his breath quickening. His eyes, now opened, were glazed over with desire, lit with a kindling of hope and something more carnal. He allowed himself to touch her for the first time, the barest caress of his large callused hands tracing the bare backs of her arms. His simple, lingering touch shot shivers across her skin, down her back, to the junction of her legs, down her inner thighs.

"Special…" he breathed, lowering his mouth toward hers. The warmth of his breath caressed her lips as his own hovered over them. She closed her eyes in anticipation of their softness. A long moment passed when she realized he'd stopped.

Her eyes opened to see his wariness returned. His hands captured her slender wrists gently, holding her still, yet not pulling her away from him.

"Inara," he gritted out her name, flush from the want of her. The hard, hot evidence of his desire had risen along his thigh where it pressed against her lower belly.

"Jayne, I- "

"I ain't a man to be played with," he growled softly, a muscle working in his clenched jaw. "You of all women oughta be able to tell that. So if this is some kinda joke -"

"I'm not playing you, Jayne," she quietly insisted.

He studied her face, searching for truth or lie. "We been on this boat together a long time. You ain't never looked at me more'n five seconds, an' never looked like ya wanted me for more'n somebody to tote your parcels." He bent his head to murmur against her ear. "I ain't blind, but I ain't dumb as I let on, neither. Why ya looking at me like that now?"

His deep masculine voice and the heat of his breath against her skin made her weak. She couldn't remember ever feeling this aroused by a man. One who had yet barely touched her.

"Perhaps I've been searching so long, too long to see what I need when it's in front of me," she whispered. "I had to put aside some foolish notions about… walls and boundaries. I had to allow myself…"

Jayne looked at her askance. "Bound'ries, huh? Ain't some kinda trick? You know, get ol' Jayne worked up an' thinkin'… wishin' on things that maybe he figured he'd never deserve? Then pull the rug out. Tell me I'm outta line. Run an' tell everybody 'bout your big laugh on Big Jayne."

"I don't toy with people, Jayne Cobb," she retorted, only mildly offended. "I'm not so cruel as to hurt a man I've come to respect... to care for."

She watched him digest that last comment, held her breath waiting for him to respond. She half expected him to turn away, not trusting her sincerity, when suddenly he seemed satisfied with her explanation. Releasing her wrists from his light grasp, he slipped a thick-muscled arm loosely around her waist.

"What exactly can I help ya with, Miss Inara Serra?" his voice took on a low, sexy tone that promised all kinds of help.

Inara favored him with a tremulous smile. "Perhaps we could discuss things in more secluded environs."

Jayne arched a brow. "S'cluded environs, huh?"

"Somewhere more private," she rephrased.

"Know what it means," he smirked, slipping his arm from her waist, his huge hand still resting lightly at the small of her back. "Like I said, I ain't always dumb as I let on. Sometimes, it helps for folks to think you're a little slow upstairs. Gives ya the advantage if they underestimate ya."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I didn't create them, don't own them, ain't getting any cashy money from them... Joss is the boss! I'm just having fun playing in the sandbox.

***

He'd died an'done gone to heaven.

Inara Serra, beautiful, refined Inara Serra, was asking big ol' Jayne into her shuttle for a private conversation. For something special she needed from him.

He could still smell the floral perfume from where she'd run her fingers over his mouth, his face. She'd pressed that angelic body up against him till he feared he'd explode in a million bitty shards right there on the catwalk. Had let him touch her, put his arm around her waist, keep his hand on her back as she led him into her private place. His heart damn near beat out of his chest, and he was surprised she couldn't hear it across the room.

A hint of incense wrapped him up as he entered her world. Simple, soft classical guitar music came from somewhere above, hidden by satiny strips of cloth covering the ceiling. Luscious red velvet curtains framed the large bed. The shimmer from lit golden candles cast a seductive glow across her skin. Jayne had a sudden vision of her dusky, well-endowed body laid out waiting him across that red velvet bedspread.

Running his hand down his face, Jayne forced the delicious thought back into the corners of his brain. She still hadn't said anything that couldn't be passed off as fancy talk. Till she did otherwise, he was trying like all hells to keep his John Thomas in check.

He couldn't look at that damned bed without picturing her on it. Instead, he forced his mind onto what she was doing, fiddling with a teapot the low table. Dark hot tea streamed from the silver urn.

The ribbons of black liquid and the rising tendrils of steam reminded him of her glorious black hair. She had it done up all fancy, her dark curls high on her head, pinned up with a jeweled bauble that musta cost more'n what he made in a month. A really good month. When nothing went crabbed, which weren't hardly never.

Jayne fought the urge to pull that pretty bauble free, toss it aside and bury his long fingers in the wildness of her shiny black curls.

He still wasn't convinced he weren't dreaming all this. But here she was, all inviting and gracious, lit on the edge of a gold-embroidered couch, patting the seat for him to join her. Half afraid his weight would break the thing, he eased himself onto the cushion just a hand's-length away from her.

She offered him a dainty flowered cup of tea after sweetening it with two sugars. He wondered how she knew, but reckoned that's what Companions did – watched and learned what a man liked. He never imagined she'd bother noticing how he took his tea.

"Thankya," he said, liking how her fingers lingered on his when she handed him the fragile little cup. He was feeling oversized and not a little outta place.

He wasn't used to being fussed over. Sure, the gals he bedded bothered over him a little bit, especially since he usually paid up for the whole night. They knew he took pride in making sure they got their play, too. After a few rounds of heavy sexin' settled the fire in him, he liked to touch them, brush their hair and the like.

But long weeks out in the Black made for a powerful, bottled-up need in him that couldn't wait for a bunch of pleasantries. They knew when he walked in the door Jayne'd rather to get on to business fair soon, and they were happy to oblige.

Inara was the sort who made a big ceremony outta things, he knew, took it real serious to get all the little pretties just right. He felt obliged to show her he noticed that.

"Nice place ya got here," he offered, flicking a glance back to the bed. The image came back, bare golden skin waiting for him behind the red velvet. "Nice curtains," he grinned into his tea.

Inara thanked him with a demure smile, like she knew what he was thinkin' about them curtains.

Gorramit, man, don't go getting' all nervous. Jayne sipped the sweet drink slowly. You ain't no green boy grappling with your first woman. And Companion or not, she is a woman.

Lord, yeah, but what a woman.

"So…" he drawled out. He carefully set the cup on a side-table, then was sorry he had cause now he had nothing to do with his hands. They felt heavy with nothing to keep them offa her till she gave the go-ahead. He settled on resting them palm-down on his thighs, hoping he looked a whole lot more at ease than he felt.

"Gotta say, never thought to be sittin' here takin' tea with you, Inara. But I reckon tea and talk ain't exactly what was on your mind out on the catwalk."

Inara stared down into her tea, like she wasn't just sure how to answer. Jayne watched her swirl the warm liquid, dart her tongue to her lips again.

Great day in the mornin'! If he didn't know better, he'd say her calm was a little rattled. A glamorous woman who made a living sexing men was acting more like a nervous a schoolgirl. On account of him?

Jayne felt like somebody'd pole-axed him.

He affected her. She'd had her choice of men from the whole star system. And yet here she sat with roughneck Jayne Cobb, sipping sweet tea from a bitty, flowerdy china cup on her brocade settee.

He reached across the inches that separated them to take her elegant hand in his. Just that, no more, waiting for her response. She'd made the first moves earlier, but what kind of man could he call himself if he just let her do all the work.

"What do you want, Inara," he asked, gently circling the pad of his thumb against her soft skin. He was rewarded with a slight hitch in her breathing. "Just name it, pretty lady, an' it's yours."

She looked at him straight-on. No designs. No calculation. Jayne felt the floor rock beneath him as she stared into him with those deep brown eyes, all honest and yearning.

"I want _you_, Jayne."

He sat there a moment, trying to cipher out exactly what she meant when it hit him.

This weren't no Companion art, no game to mock him. The pureness of her need struck every nerve in him, more accurate a shot than any he'd made with his best rifle Vera. He understood then and there what she was offering and what she was asking of him.

There wouldn't be no discussion of coin between them. Only honest giving of pleasure, without demands or obligations or regrets.

He slid to the floor, kneeling between her legs. His chest lightly pressed against hers. He was so tall, even now his face was level with hers.

Jayne stroked her cheek. She gave him with a shuddery sigh, leaning into his touch. Giving in to his earlier impulse, he reached up to gently undo that costly hair bauble, laying it gently on the table.

He twined his long fingers in the dark locks, reveling in the sensual feel of her hair. Buried his face in the silky curls, breathing deep the flowered scent of her shampoo.

"Inara," he groaned, wrapping her hair around his hand, gently pulling her face to his. "Here's something special I ain't had in a very, very long time."

She smiled as he echoed her earlier words. A gasp escaped her as he brushed her lips with his own, coaxed them open, his tongue teasing hers with feathery strokes. Gorramit, but she tasted like nectar and honey drizzled on his tongue. He slid his mouth tenderly across hers, slow and easy, feeling her relax into his simple, honest kiss.

He grazed her lower lip between his teeth, drawing back to catch her expression. Sultry lashes fluttered against her cheeks, her head relaxing in his hands, her hair still captive to his desire.

"Sweet woman," he rasped, uncaring that his voice cracked with needing her.

Her hands traced his chest, the hard nipples beneath his shirt. He was still damp from his workout, but she didn't seem to care, pressing up against him with her body and her pretty little hands. Glad he'd showered early this morning, he still worried his sweat may bother her.

With every ounce of willpower he could conjure, Jayne loosened his fingers from her hair and drew back enough to allow her an escape. Her whimper of protest thrilled him.

"Shirt's all sweaty," he apologized.

"Perhaps we should take care of that," she said, reaching her arms around his back, pulling him back to her. "May I undress you?"

Jayne felt the blood rushing to his mid-section, felt himself growing hard and heavy against the tight canvas of his britches. Wo de ma, he thought, giving her a quick nod.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

Inara drank in the untamed man-scent of him. Clean sweat, leather, the hint of cigar tobacco, the unmistakable musk of male arousal. She tugged his tight blue tee shirt from his trousers.

Once long ago, she would have expected him to strip it off in a rush, hurrying to claim what she offered. She knew him better now. He knelt there patiently, shivering as she skimmed his ribs with the back of her fingers, slowly raising the damp shirt up his torso.

She let the garment drop and splayed her fingers across his broad, well-muscled chest. His muscles had been sculpted by hard work, heavy lifting, and the not-infrequent bar brawl.

His body was built for a woman's pleasure. And he knew it, she could tell, by the confident, fiery stare he gave her, the hint of cockiness playing at the edge of his sensuous mouth.

His tight shirts left little to a woman's imagination as he strutted around the ship or dockside. Somehow it was different now, even familiar with the swell and dip of his muscles, to have him here, bare-chested and inches away from her. Her fingertips traced the crisp, dark curls covering his chest, down his tight abdomen, pausing where the trail disappeared beneath his waistband.

He watched her hands through half-closed lids while she unlatched the brass buckle on his thick leather belt. She heard him swallow hard.

"Perhaps we should remove your boots first?"

He sat where she gestured on the edge of her settee, lifting each foot for her, allowing her to do as she pleased. Inara admitted she was surprised at his control. This patient Jayne intrigued her. So few men were mysteries, but he was proving more complex than she'd even imagined. Smiling to herself, she set his large boots and socks aside and pulled him to stand.

He ran a hand down her arm, settling an easy grip on her hip. With the other, he tilted her face to his. Expecting more of the feathery kiss he'd given her before, Inara was surprised by the soft, full crush of his lips on her waiting mouth. An ache blossomed in her breasts as his tongue slid past her lips to tease her own. Inara moaned against his mouth, the heated wetness of his kiss mirrored in the urgency growing in her center.

For a man who professed not to kiss on the mouth, he was more than adept at the skill. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt light-headed with pleasure, but the giant merc was sapping the strength from her. She braced against his immovable bulk, wrapping her arms around him, running her hands up the smooth muscles of his back, grazing his skin with her crimson-laquered nails.

She heard him hiss. His mouth pulled slightly from hers, not fully breaking contact.

"Any more of this and there won't be no stoppin', girl, consequences begorramed," he warned against her lips, his voice hoarse with desire. "You understand me, darlin'? I'm just a man, 'Nara. I ain't never - woundn't never - take a woman unwillin'. 'Specially not you. But you gotta know a man's got limits. You let me touch you, kiss that sweet mouth one more second…it ain't gonna matter if the Alliance or Buddha hisself shows up. I ain't gonna be able to stop with you."

Inara rubbed her face against his close-trimmed beard. "Bizui," she whispered. "Have I given you reason to think I don't want you here?"

"Jus' lettin' ya know…Last chance to send me away," he said, arms instinctively flexing to hold her tightly to him. "You got even a hint of doubt 'bout what I wanna do with you, woman, ya tell me to leave this room right now, dong ma? Otherwise…"

She didn't let him finish, reaching for his hand, drawing it into the depths of her silky red dressing gown. His manhood strained against her as she pressed the firm globe of her breast into his palm. "No doubts, Jayne," she whispered. "I choose the 'otherwise.'"

Watching him accept her choice, Inara slipped the buttons of his trousers, shuddering as his thumb brushed the hard kernel of her nipple. She ran her fingers under the waistband and eased the coarse fabric down his hips. He shrugged them off, stepped out and stood before her as bare as the Creator had made him.

The Creator had been in a very generous mood that day.

Jayne stood very still, allowing her to drink in the sight of him. Long, muscular legs, lean hips, and a firm, aroused masculine endowment that took her breath away.

"Renci de Fozu," she mouthed.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

He stood very still for her, letting her get a good look. Did a man good for a pretty woman to admire him, and his parts getting admired had to agree.

An old Earth-that-Was story ran through his head, something about a big, ol' wolf and a lil' gal dressed in red. Only right now, look on her face said the wolf was the one oughta be worried.

"Hmmm, darlin', like what ya see?" Jayne grinned at her look of almost guilty pleasure. Like she'd been caught doing something real naughty. He'd show her naughty, good and all.

"Don't hardly seem fair, me standin' her all nekkid, an' you still wearin' that hot heavy thing."

He slipped his fingers under the edge of her red gown, easing the lightweight fabric down her shoulders. Her skin was softer than the silk that had covered it. Jayne expected all of her would feel like that.

Tugging at the loose knot of her sash, he let her gown fall to the floor.

"Yee-soo," he whispered, cupping his hands under the curves of her ripe breasts.

"Like what you see?" she teased back, running slender fingers up his big arms.

Jayne wet his lips with his tongue, bending to trail hot kisses down the graceful curve of her neck she turned up to him, across her delicate collarbone, down the tender swell of her breast. She arched up to meet his mouth as he drew the rosy pearl of her nipple between his lips, and opened his mouth to draw more of her into his kiss.

Flicking his tongue across the sweet valley between, he gave the matching breast equal admiration. He relished the feel of her firmness in his mouth. Her body bowed up to him, fingers grasping the back of his head, her sharp gasp and sigh singing her pleasure to him.

Jayne felt his own body sliding further into the wanting. He hadn't hardly begun touching her and was already dangerous close to going off like a rocket. Last thing he wanted was to end this before they really got started. He gave her breast a gentle nip and pulled away, pleased with the little whine she let out.

Holding her out from him a pace, Jayne looked long and hard at the beauty he'd only fantasized about till now. A wolfish grin spread across his face.

She wore only some lacy red panties that matched the dressing gown. His shaft throbbed at thinking that's all she'd been wearing this whole time. That she'd come looking for him wearing nothing underneath but these thin lacy drawers.

"Gotta say, 'Nara, I thought about ya nekkid plenty of times. Ain't none of 'em done ya justice."

The words seemed to please her. Raising her arms over her head, she did a slow twirl in his embrace, like a dancer, letting him see all of her.

Almost all of her.

As she finished her twirl, he slid his big hands around her trim waist. She was so tiny he could near touch his fingers together on both sides. Such a dainty little thing here in his big rough trembling hands. He suddenly worried she might be too damned fragile for him at all, might break even as careful as he'd be.

"I'm not made of spun glass, bao bei," she whispered, like she read his concern. "I know you'll be as gentle as I need you to be. And as not-so-gentle as I need you to be, too."

His breath left him in a whoosh. Giving her waist a tender squeeze, he backed her away from him just a bit. She made like she was going to protest, maybe thinking he was backing out, when he wiped that worry from her mind.

Locking her gaze with his own, he knelt before her. Jayne slid his hands downward slow and easy, lingering on the swell of her hips just a moment. Watching her response to his touch. He hooked his fingers into the edge of her pretty red panties, using the frilly fabric to pull her to him, hold her steady while he kissed his way down the soft skin of her belly.

Dipping the tip of his tongue in the hollow of he navel, he nipped the tender flesh covering her hipbones. She bucked her hips toward him, tilting toward him. He chuckled, licking circles across her abdomen from the hollow of one hip to the other.

The sweet hot scent of her called out to him. Still watching her face, he lowered his mouth to her lace-covered mound. Her body jerked as if hit by lightning.

He rasped the thin layer, mouthing her through her panties, the very ones she wore to come fetch him to do just this very thing to her. They were soaked now, drenched with the wetness of his mouth and her dew. The whole of it was so gorram overwhelming he thought he might die. Around the edges, he licked where her sweet trim peeked out, slipping his tongue under the red lace to tease her, to tease himself, drawing his first taste of her into his mouth.

He ran his tongue across his lips, spreading her flavor on them, and suddenly was unable to bear it any more. The look on her beautiful face, the arching of her body, the shuddery way her breath caught in back of her throat. He caught her up in his strong arms. Three powerful strides brought them to her bed.

Laying her gently down, he knelt between her legs and slowly but firmly peeled the red lace down her long tan legs. He leaned back, drank in the sight of her. Just like he'd imagined, laying there all spread out for him in the seclusion of those damned red velvet curtains.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

He was devouring her.

Inara felt the weight of his smoldering stare across every aroused nerve of her skin, but felt it most in the needing ache of her woman's core. His eyes burned hot with the blue fire of a hundred suns, scorching every inch of her they touched. And they touched every inch.

His wicked searching mouth had kindled a brazenness in her even she didn't know existed. This was nothing- _nothing_- like the practiced and ritualized ceremony she had perfected in a hundred strangers' beds. This was Jayne, and it was Inara, and it was open and honest and pure and utterly wanton.

Jayne's unfettered desire for her unleashed a visceral need she'd spent years denying. When he laid her gently on her own bed and rid her of the last scrap of material separating them, she opened herself to receive him. Waited for him as he rocked back on his heels to drink in the sight of her.

Now was the time, the moment he would cover her with that magnificent body, enter her fully and bring her with him to sweet release.

"Jayne," she beckoned, extending her arms to embrace him. "Come into me, lover."

His eyes, usually a deep soft blue, were lit by a carnal fire. She felt herself quiver at the feral gleam in those eyes. He wasn't ready by far to extinguish this flame.

Not yet.

Growling low, he wrapped his hands around her tiny ankles and pulled one to his waiting mouth. Inara shivered as his strong, white teeth nibbled the pad of her toes. He ran his mouth across the arch of her dainty foot, kissing the curve of her heel before suckling on the sensitive tendon behind her ankle.

Inara cried out from the unexpected pleasure, bringing her hands to her heavy breasts as he drew his wet, hot tongue up the back of her calf, laving the back of her knee. The soft touch of his tongue was contrasted by his grazing beard. He sucked gently, then insistently on the creamy tender flesh of her thigh, up into the crease next to her waiting woman flesh.

She felt the low vibration of his laugh against her skin when she whimpered, pushing her sex up toward him.

"Mmmmm, not yet, darlin'," he drawled with a decadent smile, sending his mouth back down the path that had just scorched her. "Gonna make it last and last. Make damned sure you remember what I feel like. Cause I ain't never gonna forget the taste of you, Inara Serra."

She writhed against the bed, velvet riding up under her to expose the slick silk of her sheets. He was nearly back to her ankle, his grip strong and sure and unrelenting. When he slipped her painted toes into his warm mouth, she moaned again, so full of her need for him. He shot her a steamy, promise-filled look and eased her foot to the bed.

And tugged her other ankle to his mouth.

"Jayne!" she wailed. "Aiya! Have mercy!"

A sharp nip to her instep was his answer, followed by his throaty chuckle.

"Woman, I never figured a bonafide Companion weren't able to withstand the build-up," he teased, trailing his mouth up her other leg. "All the anticipatin', the slow-like dance of bodies courtin'. Figured you'd last longer'n me any day."

His words should have quelled her impatience, but they only stoked the burn in her core.

"Not like them," she panted as he grew closer and closer to the juncture of her trembling thighs.

"How so?" he urged, voice steady but the rumble betraying his own veneer of calm.

She struggled to find the words, to think coherently as his tongue danced into the crease of her leg. "More…. real," she choked. "More… solid… More… Jayne!"

The strength of her cry her shook her nearly as much as his fiery tongue delving between her swollen, aching folds. His mouth claimed her, devoured her, bathed her engorged nub with masterful strokes. She bowed up against his wondrous mouth, dragging her fingers through his silky, dark hair, reveling in the rough drag of his beard against her tender thighs.

Her ecstasy doubled as his long, strong fingers join the fray. He stroked her deep and slow, urging her to give herself fully to him.

And she did. She heard herself crying his name, heard his answer in the primal moan against her flesh as her orgasm wrung the last ounce of resistance from her.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

If he lived a thousand years, he'd never forget the sweet sound of his name wrung from Inara's lips over and over again. As she lay there, sobbing her release, Jayne felt a swell of pride.

He'd pleased her, maybe like she'd not been pleasured before. Inara the Companion may have bedded a hundred clients in her career, but he was pretty damned sure this was the first time Inara the Woman had let herself be loved on by a man just because it was what she wanted.

It humbled him that she chose him as the one to finally be free with. Brushing tiny kisses up her belly, he eased himself beside her, wrapping her up in his arms. He waited for her to come back to herself.

The nearness of her, the fresh memory of how she'd come so sweet and hard because of him nearly drove him mad with need. His thick root twitched in anticipation. No way in hell he'd rob her of this.

Tamping down his own need, he twined his fingers in her thick black curls again. Jayne murmured sweet praise words against her ear, making sure she knew how beautiful she was. How much pleasing her had pleased him. She made sweet little sounds in the crook of his neck, little hiccups as she tried to catch her breath.

He was the luckiest hun dan in the whole gorram 'verse right now.

She snuggled her soft body up against him. Her breathing steadied. He just laid there with her, enjoying to way she trusted him like this. A few minutes later, he felt her fingers against his chest, and smiled down at her.

Damn if she didn't look shy. Those shining brown eyes looking up at him still glittered from the loving he'd just given her.

"You didn't…?"

"Not yet," he rumbled, not sure if he should be insulted. "Told ya, woman. I aim to make it last and last."

"You're still so ready," she said with wonder in her voice. "How can you wait?"

Bless her, she sounded a bit put out. Like as not, none of her customers had ever bothered to wait on her to get her fill, nor been able to withstand her skills enough not to come at first flush. God knew it'd took every ounce of will he had not to plunge himself to the hilt when she lay there moaning his name, begging him to do it.

But he had held on, and it was worth it. She'd be able to take all of him now, all heated up and relaxed.

Inara stroked the curls covering his chest. Jayne shivered to feel warm, soft kisses there, tender at first, then growing more demanding. His nipple contracted, hardening against her tongue.

"'Nara," he groaned, rolling her on her back. He settled on his knees again between her thighs, running his hands up the tender muscles as he pulled her center against his groin. His hardness pulsed for her and it took steel will alone to stroke her with just his fingers.

Her release had been complete, but embers of it still lay waiting beneath her surface. One hand working at her slick entrance, he leaned his big body up over her, skimming her with just the barest touch of him. He loomed over her, resting his weight on one arm, bringing his mouth to cover hers completely. Moaning, he stoked her fires again, until she bucked against him, her hands kneading his back and ass.

She hissed when he pulled away from her mouth, peering down into her face.

"What is it you need, darlin'?" he fair purred, still working her with his fingers.

"Jayne-" gritted through her teeth, an edge to her tone.

"What is it you're wantin', Inara? Tell me. Give me the words, woman." His control was damn near the edge, but he wanted this.

Matching his fervor, she practically yelled out, "I want you, Jayne. I want you inside me. Please, Jayne, now!"

He slid the tip of his spear barely into her, making sure she could adjust. Hooking his arms up under her back and shoulders, he buried himself full deep, pulling her firm into his thrust.

Red hot velvet stroked against him as he slid into her. He leaned his forehead against hers, staring down into her passion-lit face, his breath forced through gritted teeth. Damn he didn't want to lose it yet.

Not yet. Closing his eyes, he struggled to maintain his calm for just a little longer. He knew she'd feel good wrapped around him like this, but never could have dreamed it would be this good. His control deserted him then, gone the second she flexed her supple muscles around his staff. She was more than ready for him to let go, and had every intent to make the trip with him.

Jayne drew out to the edge, driving back into her with smooth, steady strokes. She wrapped her sultry legs around his waist, nails scoring his back, urging him on with each thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, the words spilling from her as he pumped her faster.

He was drowning in her, falling hard and fast like a gorram shooting star, all burn and velocity and sparks scattering in the wake. Harder, now, driven by the heaven of her depths gripping him with each pounding stroke.

Sweat poured down his face, off his arms and chest, dripping down to mingle with the sheen of her own exertion. Her face contorted in bliss the moment he felt her inner walls begin to quake around his sensitive shaft. Arching hard into him, she keened high and long with her release.

Jayne panted hard, willing himself to hold out one more stroke, one more stroke, milking her orgasm for every ounce of pleasure he could give her, take for himself.

"Come for me, Jayne," her stilted voice urged in his ear. "Come for me, lover. Show me your pleasure. Show me I please you. Show me how good it is. Come for me, Jayne baby. Come with me come with me come with me…"

He threw his head back and roared like a beast as the force of his release crashed over him. Every muscle, every nerve spasmed through him, wracking his senses. Grabbing her sweet body tight to him, he toppled over the edge, pouring his hot seed into her, throbbing in time to her mantra, come with me come with me come with me…..


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer:I neither created nor own these characters. (All hail Joss!) Just havin' some fun, no cashy-money comin' to me…

***

Shattered. Splintered. Fragmented. Whole.

Inara lay still, bliss pulsing throughout her body and mind. She held his trembling body in her equally trembling embrace, savoring the weight of him on her. Jayne held much of his formidable size on his own strong arms, arms still wrapped firmly around her.

His ragged breath fanned across her neck as they lay in communed silence, both stunned by the force of their union. Gently she stroked the limber length of his back, making little circles with her fingertips, stroking the definition of his broad shoulders.

"Jayne, bao bei," she purred in his ear, nibbling the lobe. It may be the softest part of him, she thought.

"Hmmmmmm," he sighed the contentment of a man who'd had his hunger fully sated.

Tiger. Languid and drowsy, taking his leisure. She knew his lightning reflexes and lethal power could catapult him to action in a breath. But for this moment, he was completely relaxed.

They lay quiet, an easy peace between them. It smoothed his brow, taking years off his appearance. For a while, there was no danger for him to face, no foe to vanquish, no threat calling for response. He could just be.

She wanted that for him, this brief respite from the hard life in the Black. And for now, she could be that for him.

"'M I getting' heavy on ya, darlin'?" Jayne shifted his weight to move off of her. She tensed her embrace to halt him.

"No, sweet man, you feel good," she answered, easing her arms when he relaxed again. "You feel – how did you put it? 'So gorram good' here with me."

She felt his smile against her neck. A tender kiss in the same spot followed it.

"Never imagined I'd hear those words on your lips," he chuckled.

"Neither did I," she answered.

***'

Jayne sighed, content and a little bittersweet. Her lovely face was so relaxed as she dozed up against him, completely spent out. Companions went on about 'composure' and all, but he'd never seen her so peaceful. Made him happy, that he'd done that for her, but made him sad, too.

Things weren't never gonna be the same. Even if they didn't keep the night of loving they shared a secret from the crew, from Mal, it still couldn't be the same.

Jayne knew Inara wasn't looking to settle down with him, though damn if the idea didn't give him a brief sweet ache in his chest. But it weren't gonna happen, even if she asked.

Weren't that he couldn't manage to live in her world. He had manners enough when he wanted them. He never told nobody, but his Grandpop had been a company big -shot once. Core-born and bred. Power-plays and back-stabbing had got him transferred to the company's farthest station, out on the Rim. Where his little girl had smack-dab fallen in love with a big, rough working man – Jayne's Pop.

Though her father disowned her, the old man softened up when the babies started coming. Brought the eldest boy to his fancy house during the winter, when food got scarce and there weren't much work needed doing on the farm anyhow. Taught him as much 'culture' and fancified living as a buck-wild young Rim boy would let him. Jayne hadn't seen much use for all the fuss, but learned it since it made his Ma happy.

Not a soul on this boat would dream it, but Jayne even knew some of the fancy ball dances.

Weren't that he didn't have the know-how. Didn't want-to. Folks all gussied up, afraid to get their lily-white hands dirty. Pop taught him to take pride in a man's hard work. A long day of sweating was better than working your ass off for some company and getting jerked around like his Grandpop had.

Mostly, it was the way they lied to each other. Everybody smile to your face when their eyes said they wanna gut you. Saying how nice it was to see each other, what a lovely time, la-ti-da, not meaning a bit of it.

Folks needed some good whiskey. Maybe play some foot-stomping music, not that funeral-like crap, them Core-folk would get loose and get right. Quit being such tight-asses like Doc.

Inara stirred against him, one dainty hand resting on his chest. Woman like this might make a man change his mind, put on all that fancy to make her happy.

Don't kid yourself, boy, Jayne told himself. Not even for her. Not even if she asked.

He'd be in heaven with her for a while, sure. But then it'd start to chaff at him, a tight collar with too much starch. He'd start resenting her, even while he loved being with her. And it wouldn't be fair asking her to give up the life she knew, even if she'd be willing to.

"Your brow is awfully troubled for a man who's just shared union with a Companion," her voice slipped into his thoughts.

"Hmmm," he grunted, rubbing her arm lightly. "Just thinkin'. Takes a bit of effort on my part, ya know. Helps to scrunch my face up some."

"Don't try that fei hua on me. I already knew you were sharper than you let on," she scoffed. "Academy training, remember?"

They grew silent again for a time, though the ease was some damaged by thoughts of the 'verse creeping back on them.

"I can't stay," she said finally in a sad, small voice.

"I know, darlin'," he kissed her temple. "I never expected you to stay with me. Jus' damn glad you wanted to be here in the first place."

She squirmed to face him, eyes shining earnestly. "I don't mean… it's not you, it's me."

"Don't," he rasped. "Don't do that, bao bei. Ya don't have to with me. Not the 'it's not you, it's me' thing? I never expected it to be that way with us. Hell," he gave her a brief squeeze, "I never 'spected it to be like _this_ with us, girl. I just want ya to always be able to tell me straight what's on yer mind. Just be honest with me. Do that for me, darlin'?"

A tear slid down her cheek. Damn, he thought, capturing the salty crystal with his mouth. Sliding his lips to hers, he softly kissed her and let her cry on him.

"I can't stay on Serenity."

"Why the hell not?" he demanded, worried it was because of him. "If it's Mal findin' out, well…hell, 'Nara, ya don't have to tell him if ya don't want. I won't say a word, my hand to God. Don't run off on my account, all right?"

"No, it's not you, Jayne, really," she stroked face. "I wasn't giving you a line about that. It really is me, you see."

He didn't see, and told her as much.

Inara sighed, sounding like somebody let all the air out of her. "What we… what you gave me tonight was a gift to me, Jayne. I meant what I said. I've never been able to just let go, not worry about all the rules and structure of the seduction. To not put the client above all else. You let me be free with you. I can never tell you how much that means to me."

He smiled at her. "Seems to me, I was the lucky one what got the gift."

"I came out here to the Black to find that freedom, that passion. For the longest time, I thought I'd find it with …. But he…He wouldn't…"

She trailed off, her eyes going hurt and distant.

"Mal's a ruttin' fool, 'Nara. Can't say I'm total sad 'bout that. If he weren't I don't reckon I had half-a-hump's chance bein' here in your bed. But I know ya wanted it to be him, an' I know he hurt yer heart by not loosenin' up enough to take what you offered."

"I wasn't thinking of him while we were together," she insisted.

"Ain't what I meant, gorramit. I know you had yer heart set on him, and I ain't never took no offense to that. You an' me? I knowed what it was from the get-go. I ain't never gonna be sorry about it, layin' down with such a fine woman as yourself. But don't you worry I'm hopin' for nothin' more." He held her chin in his big hand, looking her square in the eye with as much no-nonsense as he could work up.

"Ya listen to me, Inara Serra. I ain't expectin' no happy-ever-after go se. So don't you worry I'm gonna run my mouth 'bout this lil' bit of heaven we took, dong ma? If ya still want Mal, an' he ever smartens up, I'll be happy to see ya get yer heart's desire. I mean ever bit of it."

"You're a better man than you let people see," she said. "A woman would be lucky to catch you up, Jayne Cobb. If things had been different…"

"Woulda, shoulda, coulda, darlin'. Don't matter, though." He tucked a strand of her black silk hair behind her ear. "Man like me ain't cut out for yer fancy world, no-how. An' yer too good a woman fer me to want ya to leave your'n. Ain't sayin' we can't meet in the middle any time ya take a notion. An' I mean _any_ damn time. But no pressure. An' no regrets."

That seemed to ease her a bit, though he could see she still upset. Wanting to get her mind off her worry, and maybe ease his own, Jayne fell back on the one thing he knew could make a body forget their troubles. Besides, might be the last time he ever got the chance to touch her, especially if she was leaving.

He kissed her neck gently, then with more intent as he felt her respond. Trying to ease her onto her back again, he felt a stab of disappointment when she resisted, pushing against him.

"I'm sorry, 'Nara. If ya don' wanna, it's all right," he apologized. "Just thought ya might."

"Didn't say Ah don' wanna," she mimicked in his Rim-bred accent.

A sultry smile widened across that sexy mouth, and Jayne thought again about the wolf story. Nobody ever mentioned it mighta been a she-wolf in that tale.

Growling back at her, he grabbed her hips firm. Inara tossed a long, lean leg over his groin and straddled him.

"Ah jus' thought ah'd take me a lil' ride, cowboy," she drawled.

"Well, saddle up, lil' missy, an' let's git," he told her, nearly whooping when she did just that.

***'

The End


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